


Holiday Spirit

by AgentStannerShipper



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Awkward Harry, James being a little shit, M/M, Mistletoe, Possessive Merlin, Shenanigans, and that holiday classic, cute holiday themed fluff, james doesnt know when to leave well enough alone, not-really-secret-relationships, percival is a great and long suffering boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 19:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12688602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: James is certain that Merlin and Harry are in a relationship. If only he could get them to admit it. And also, it's Christmas.





	Holiday Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MHMoony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MHMoony/gifts).



> A very early holiday present for MHMoony, who said she wanted Christmas Merlahad with James trying to get them under mistletoe (with some inspiration from the conversation that followed). Hope you like it! 
> 
> I can't title for shit. Also, not betaed or Brit-picked, so let me know if anything is wildly off.

“I’m just saying,” James pointed out, “I’m not sure who they think they’re fooling.” He stepped back and admired his handiwork, a neat line of silver garland draped across the mantle, wound around supports on either side so it wouldn’t fall. It was the finishing touch on his afternoon’s work; the Christmas tree already stood proudly in the corner, matching silver tinsel and round glass ornaments, along with a very handful of very tacky, badly painted butterflies that had been a gift from Harry a few years ago, spaced artistically among the branches. He glanced over at his partner, who had refused to help him (citing that November was far too early to be putting up Christmas decorations) and who was curled up on the sofa with his newspaper. “They aren’t subtle.”

“And _I’m_ just saying,” Peter responded placidly, not bothering to look up from his paper, “subtle or not, it’s none of our business.”

James plucked the newspaper out of his partner’s hands, tossing it on the coffee table where it slid neatly to the end and flopped onto the carpet. Peter hardly missed a beat, blinking in surprise for only a second before casually picked up the next section. James took that page from him too and let it join its counterpart on the floor. “They’re our friends,” he reasoned. “That _makes_ their relationship our business.”

Peter folded his arms and lifted an eyebrow. “Alright,” he said. “What, exactly, do you propose we do about it? Confront them? Tell them we know?”

James dropped down onto the sofa next to his partner, slinging his arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Of course not,” he said, beaming in a way that Peter knew spelled danger. “That would be far too easy, and a great deal less fun.”

***

“I would like to state, for the record, that I still think this is a bad idea.”

James ignored him, “This is bound to work.”

Peter looked doubtful, but what he actually said was, “Have you considered the fact that Harry and Merlin might not wish to be out?”

“If they weren’t okay with it, they wouldn’t be so obvious about it,” James scoffed. “It isn’t the eighties anymore.”

“I still think just talking to them about it is the best course of action.”

James smirked and nudged him gently, “Oh, live a little! You never have any fun.”

“You’re very lucky I love you,” Peter deadpanned.

James straightened up, turning to look at his partner. To anyone else, his face would appear impassively blank, but James could read grudging amusement in the crinkles around his eyes and the corners of his lips. James reached for Peter, who allowed himself to be pulled in for a lingering kiss, James’s hand cradling Peter’s cheek. James pulled away just slightly, murmuring against his lips, “I really am. I count my lucky stars every day that you were brought into my life.”

Peter pulled away, rolling his eyes affectionately. He opened his mouth, probably to say something about how cheesy James was, but James looked over his shoulder and interrupted, “They’re coming!” He ducked behind the corner to peer out, and Peter did the same.

They were in the hallway leading to the handler’s rooms, Research and Development spread out on either side of the hall, making for a perfect spot to lean casually, as if they actually belonged there. They were in clear view of most of the techs, but so long as the knights didn’t bother them, most of them didn’t care, and didn’t even look at Peter and James. A few did glance up, however, upon hearing the footsteps of their wizard coming from one end of the hall. From the opposite end came Harry, his hands shoved in his pockets, strolling through the corridor like it was his home.

“Galahad,” Merlin stopped in front of Harry. He had his omnipresent clipboard in one hand and a bouquet of Christmas flowers in the other. It was a lovely piece of work, from the same florist James always went to when he needed an apology bouquet for Peter (which happened a bit more often than James cared to admit). It was made up of a cluster of white Christmas roses, lilies, and, of course, poinsettias, a white and red theme that was very pretty and very festive.

And it was out of place enough in the hands of the wizard that the few techs who’d looked up stopped and stared, reaching over to poke their co-workers to get their attention, rows of techs looking up from their work benches and whispering to each other.

As if he was aware he was the centre of attention but not willing to acknowledge it, Merlin cleared his throat and addressed Harry in a low voice, “I know you collect things on your missions, but my office is not an appropriate place to store them, especially without my permission.”

Harry frowned, “If you’re referring to the flowers, they aren’t from me.” He lit up, “Oh! But that reminds me!” He withdrew a statuette from his pocket, an ugly little thing that James assumed was from his recent mission to Budapest, and presented it to Merlin, “Put this on my shelf with the others, will you?”

Merlin looked unimpressed. “It’s my office, not yours,” he reminded Harry even as he took the figurine, trading it for the flowers.

Harry looked down at his new acquisition. “What am I supposed to do with these?”

“Throw them away?” Merlin suggested. “I don’t care. They aren’t mine, and if you didn’t put them in my office, then I don’t know who did.”

“Why would I put flowers in your office?” Harry asked.

James rubbed his hands together, a smiling blooming on his face. This was it, surely.

Merlin just lifted an eyebrow, “I don’t know. You brought Jeanette flowers last week for her birthday.”

“But it isn’t your birthday.”

Merlin shrugged, “You forgot?”

An appalled expression flickered across Harry’s face, but before he could say anything, Merlin said, “I have to go. Arthur needs me for a debriefing.” He sidestepped Harry, leaving him in the middle of the hallway with the flowers, staring after him. He glanced around, and suddenly the techs leapt back to work in a flurry of activity, as if they hadn’t been watching the entire exchange. Harry traded the flowers back and forth between his hands, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them, and then strode down the hall, calling out towards the desk James knew to be at the end of it, “Jeanette! Merry Christmas!”

“It’s the first of December, Galahad!” came the amused reply as Harry disappeared from view.

James slumped against the wall. “Drat.”

“It was a longshot anyway,” Peter said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re right,” James sighed. He brightened up, “You’re _always_ right.”

Peter eyed him suspiciously, “While I agree with what you’re saying, I’m not certain I like your tone.”

“No, don’t you see?” James grinned, the expression borderline maniacal. “It’s like you said. We just need to _talk_ to them.”

***

“Harry!” James threw his arm around the other agent’s shoulder. “Just the man I wanted to see.”

Harry blinked at him, startled, but at least he didn’t try to flip James like last time. “Did you need something?”

James laughed, “Do I really need an ulterior motive to talk to you?”

“Well, no,” Harry said. “But you said-“

“It’s just, with the holidays coming up, I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m fine,” Harry said slowly, frowning in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I just thought, it’s so sad. Being surrounded by happy couples when you’re all alone.”

“Oh.” Harry looked awkward. “Yes, I suppose that’s rather sad.”

“You know,” James said, “I’m sure Peter and I could find someone for you. Maybe set you up on a date? I’d just hate to see you lonely for the holidays.”

“That’s…very kind of you,” Harry’s smile was strained, “but really, I’m alright.”

“It wouldn’t be any trouble,” James pressed.

“I’m _really_ not interested, but thank you all the same.” Harry forced a laugh and checked his wrist, “Well, would you look at that? I’m late for…something, I’m sure. I’ll see you later, James.” He took off down the hall.

_How the hell did he become a secret agent?_ James wondered. _His poker face is terrible._

***

“In Harry’s defence,” Peter said, “his poker face is actually excellent. When he’s actually playing poker.”

“Peter, his watch was on the other wrist.”

Peter shrugged. “So, what next?”

Maybe his partner wasn’t one hundred percent on board with his schemes, but he was being supportive, and James supposed that was what really mattered.

He smiled, “To talk to Merlin, of course!”

***

James knocked on the doorframe of Merlin’s office, “Merlin, got a minute?”

 “I’m very busy, James.” Merlin didn’t look up from his workbench.

James leaned against the doorframe. He glanced around, his eyes lingering on the shelf of knick-knacks Harry had assembled over the years. He returned his gaze to Merlin, “I was just thinking…the holidays are coming up, and it’d be an awful shame to see you spending them alone-“

“James, get the fuck out of my office.”

Wisely, James decided that retreat was the best course of action.

***

“I don’t know what you expected,” Peter said. “Merlin isn’t precisely one to talk about his feelings.”

James sprawled on the sofa, dropping his head into Peter’s lap. “They’re never going to admit it,” he moaned.

Peter idly dropped a stray piece of tinsel onto James’s face, watching in delight as it fluttered with his breath before he swiped it away. “Well, no one can say you didn’t try.”

“Merlin’s more possessive of that clipboard than he is of Harry,” James complained. “You can’t so much as touch it without him complaining that it’s his-“ He stopped abruptly, cutting the last word short.

Peter held in a sigh. “What is it?”

James sat up, “Merlin doesn’t like people touching his things.”

“Okay…”

“This is it!” James crowed. “This _has_ to work!”

“Leave them alone, James,” Peter said.

“One more try,” James wheedled. “One more try, and then I will. I promise.”

Peter let out his sigh. “Fine. One last try. Then I’m _holding_ you to that promise.”

James kissed him. “You really are the best.”

“Don’t I know it.”

***

The Kingsman Christmas party was excellent, as always. Not all the agents were in attendance, of course, given that some were scattered about the world on various missions, but about half of them had managed to make it, along with most of the tech and handling departments. They were dressed in a rainbow of ugly sweaters and most sported Santa hats, reindeer antlers, or other Christmas themes headpieces to get into the spirit. Well, that and the _actual_ spirits, because a good deal of them were already sloshed.

James had wrangled Peter into a lovely red sweater that said “I’ve been nice” to match his own green one, which read “I’ve been naughty.” Still, that wasn’t anywhere near as entertaining as the elf ears a disgruntled Merlin was sporting. James assumed Harry was responsible, and he had to admire the man’s guts.

Speaking of Harry, he was standing off to the side, chatting with Merlin’s assistant, Jeanette. Neither one looked especially drunk, despite the champagne flutes they held, and James took it as his opportunity. With Peter following at his heels, mild acceptance written across his boyfriend’s face, James made his was over. He elbowed in between Harry and Jeanette, “Merry Christmas! Mind if I butt in?”

“Not at all,” Harry smiled. Up close, James could see that his own sweater was emblazoned with bold lettering spelling out “Santa’s favourite ho,” and the fact that Harry could wear it in public without blushing was several more points to add to why James admired Harry.

James glanced surreptitiously across the room to make sure Merlin was watching. The tech wizard was in the middle of a cluster of other handlers, just apart enough so that the group hugging going on excluded him, but close enough to converse. His eyes flicked to Harry every few seconds. Perfect.

Feigning being drunker than he actually was (which was actually not much at all – James could hold his liquor and he’d only had the one glass of champagne), James reached into his pocket, wrapping his arm around Harry so the other man couldn’t escape, and brought forth the piece of mistletoe he’d stashed there. He waved it in front of Harry’s nose, “Look what I’ve got.”

Jeanette giggled. Harry looked down his nose at it, going slightly cross-eyed. “James, please get that out of my face.”

James pouted theatrically, “It’s mistletoe, Harry!”

“I can see that.” Harry glanced at Peter, who remained impassive. “Why are you waving it at me.”

“Because I want a kiss,” James grinned.

Harry straightened, his eyes widening in alarm. “I beg your pardon?”

“It’s tradition.”

“Peter, you can’t seriously be alright with your boyfriend propositioning me.”

Peter shrugged, “It’s just a kiss. It’s not like he hasn’t done worse on honeypot missions.”

James grinned, “Come on, Harry. Just one kiss? For me? For Christmas?”

“I…ah…”

“James, get your fucking hands off my partner.” Somehow, unnoticed by everyone, during James’s little act Merlin had stormed over. And stormed was the right word, because he looked thunderous.

James raised his hands in surrender, backing away from Harry. “Sorry. How was I supposed to know he was taken?”

Merlin put a possessive hand on Harry’s shoulder, narrowing his eyes at James, “You knew. You forget, I see everything. And you, Agent Lancelot, are terrible at remembering to take your glasses off.”

“So you knew?” James asked, dumbfounded. “You knew, and instead of just telling us that you knew we knew, you decided to let me keep acting like a fool trying to get you to admit it?”

“You do it so well, I didn’t want to interrupt you.” The tiniest smirk plays around the corner of Merlin’s lips. “You could have just talked to us, you know.”

“That’s what I said,” Peter said, “but you know how James gets.” James shot his boyfriend a cross look, but Peter just smiled pleasantly at him, and James forgave him instantly.

Smirking, he tossed the sprig of mistletoe at Merlin, “Well, now that you’ve admitted it, I do believe there’s a certain tradition…?”

Harry opened his mouth, looking like he was going to protest, but Merlin simply said, “With pleasure.” He shifted his grip on Harry from his shoulder to the back of his neck, drawing him in for a long kiss. For all that he might have protested, Harry melted into Merlin, throwing his arms around Merlin’s neck and kissing him back passionately.

It wasn’t until Peter cleared his throat a good sixty seconds later that they broke apart, Harry’s cheeks flushed and Merlin smirking broadly. “I think everyone’s made their point,” Peter said.

“I think you’re quite right,” Harry agreed. He raised his champagne glass, and James liberated one from a passing tray and clinked it against Harry’s.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, wrapping his arm around Peter’s waist.

Harry leaned into Merlin’s side. “Merry Christmas,” he answered.

Merlin and Peter looked at each other, shook their heads, and smiled.


End file.
